The Final Days
by Salem'sDarkness
Summary: It would seem that you can't really get rid of evil, one form or another. Now, it's the 21st century, and Anne Selline seems to be be caught up right in the midst of something that could result in the changing of humanity forever, especially herself...
1. Chapter 1: Are You Sleeping?

**The Final Days**

Chapter 1: Are You Sleeping?

It was just like any other day and outside the clear glass windows, snow was falling ever so beautifully through the afternoon light. It almost took her breath away… Almost.

Outside, down there amongst the streets and people and hustle, perhaps people were beginning to appreciate the oncoming season… It was December 10th in New York City after all. In here, the bustle busied people as well, there were always people to be tending to, always needing help. But would they help her if she were in their place? It was coming ever closer to Christmas after all…

Shaking her head, she strode through the depressingly gray hallways past other nurses and doctors, a few patients protesting in their rooms about being here, about being _stuck_ here… Besides, they had better things to do. Like getting gifts for their families, or a nice spruce for the house. Didn't you know Christmas was comin'? She shook her head, wanting to help, but they weren't under her jurisdiction. She had to find Doctor Sherman after all… The papers she had, jostled in her hands as she looked around, perusing the rooms.

"Jenny, have you seen Phil?" she asked, leaning onto one of the marble counters, speaking to a middle aged woman whose skin was a beautiful chocolate. She was busying herself with filing under her pinky, the light from her computer screen giving her an odd blue sheen on her face. She looked up.

"Hain't seen Phil since yestaday, Anne. Try room 32A hun." She points down the dubious hallways to her right, throngs of busy people getting in the way of view.

"Thanks Jen." Taking her advice, Anne swept her way towards the room, checking her watch. Damn. It was near to her lunch break and here she was searching for that bird-brain of a doctor.

32A. There we go. _Click._

And there he was, that elusive man, sitting with a stethoscope to a young boy's heart. The mother, supposedly, was sitting there on one of those convenient little couch-like things that had had bad tastes for decoration. "Ah, I'll be right there in a sec Anne," he held a finger up, removing the device from the child's sternum and rolling his chair over to a desk, where he scribbled something down on a clipboard. He turned to the mother. "Alright, Mrs. Venn. Dex is all good to go, everything's a-ok. Just bring him back here in two weeks time and we'll see more of his progress, alright?" The lady nodded, taking a quick glance at Anne, then collecting her child, slipping past the nurse and out the door. "What can I help ya with?" he smiled, getting up.

"Well, let's see. We've just gotten one in for the ER, and the patient in room 50B has an unsteady fluid output. Max is out of the emergency but we've got to keep an eye out for him too. Oh, and Dr. Bennignton wanted-"

"Alright, alright. I get the point. I'm getting my ass out there. I'm goin'," he laughed, pretending to run as he walked out the door. He never took anything seriously, that was his problem…

Sighing, she left the room as well, clicking off some light switches on the outside of the door, signaling the room was not in use. Now to go help one of the recovering ER patients. Yes, his case was a strange one indeed. "Mauled in a fight. Damn near got his eyes cut out. Kids these days," one of her co-workers had said. Such an odd circumstance for this one… She boarded the elevator, checking her watch again. All she'd have to do was pop in for five minutes and then she'd be off to that wonderful grilled chicken salad she'd been dying for for the last three hours.

She stepped off at the right floor, Floor 6, and quickly made her way to room 69A, her shoes making odd noises on the cold floor. The bold, black letters on the door marked the correct room. She took a small clipboard from the bin, peruse it's contents and what she should or shouldn't give the patient. She noticed the room's lights weren't on as she entered and the patient looked sound asleep. And he looked pretty beaten up too…

Anne made her way to the bedside, going through a list in her head then performing them. _Temperature, blood pressure, pulse, respiration…_ All seemed normal.

It was then that she got a good look at him. By God, he was gorgeous! Slightly tan just enough to have probably taken a few trips to the beach, dark almost blackish hair falling in short strands over his left eye. He couldn't have been over 20. All of the life support equipment didn't seem to detract from his looks, she was only disappointed that they hid most of it. A vein in his neck pulsated to the beat of her heart, but she was drawn to his face. Oh how she'd love to run her fingers through his silken hair… No, no. This was a patient for God's sake!

Suddenly, she found her stare met by a set of beautiful, dark, hazel eyes. They were strange and entrancing, an odd color for one such as he. She gasped and flew back some. "Oh… Oh my, I-I'm sorry. I was just checking for…" The figure on the bed just blinked a few times and seemed to slip off into slumber once again. Anne brushed back a few strands of her own dark hair, calming herself. It had been on odd feeling, as if he saw right through her in the blink of an eye. But that couldn't be right.

Gathering up the clipboard of the patient's information, she left the room reading the name… Bryan Desultor… _Well Mr. Desultor, we shall meet again, _she thought to herself, feeling foolishly like one of those cartoon villains that never really quite go away. She snickered to herself, how did she ever get this way? Another look at her watch. That salad was waiting…

* * *

My oh my, I haven't written anything like this in... counts fingers Two years! XX So yeah, this is a whole different style from what I've done in the past, but I hope you all like it just the same. I figured I should just stop planning these things out and just DO it as it comes to me. XP We'll just have to see how this goes. 3 Please R&R and no flames please!


	2. Chapter 2: To Forgive and Forget

**The Final Days**

Chapter 2: To Forgive and Forget

And oh, that salad was _delicious_.

Finished with her satisfying meal, she actually _did_ return to room 69A. Of all the charges under her care at the moment, his was the worst case, after all. She noticed that the light was on in the room this time and the patient was awake, the harsh fluorescent lights throwing a purplish tint around the room. He also didn't seem so… helpless anymore, even though nothing about the patient's casts or bandages had changed since the last time she'd seen him. The only difference was that now the head of his bed was slightly elevated, and on the small TV hooked to the ceiling, some old cartoons played. "Don't worry, my dear. We shall meet again," an overly enthusiastic voice cackled on the show, curling at an exaggerated mustache.

"Oh, you're awake," she replied, to his silent stare, his eyes shifting over to the sound of the door opening. She edged closer to the bed, checking his IV bag.

Startled again, Anne heard his smooth, muffled voice. "Could you… Could you… Take this off…" He breathed, seemingly mentioning the respirator.

"Umm… Well, alright." She gently, carefully lifted the device from his face, the back of her hand brushing his hair lightly with her hand, causing shivers to travel up her spine. Breathing a sigh of relief, he uttered a small "Thanks." Being so close, she noticed the heaving of his broad chest subsiding under the sheets. To her surprise, he then tried to push himself higher up onto the pillow.

"Oh no sir, please. Don't move, you'll…" but he was already sitting upright, the various tubes and wires going taught all across his body. The bed sheets fell to his waist, and she could see that he sported a large, overlapped band of gauze wrapped around his bare mid-waist. This, this guy, with those entrancing eyes, seemed to be more concerned with the cast sealing his left arm, and he itched at it with his other index finger.

It was only a few moments before he collapsed on the bed, sliding back down as if his muscles had given out, and the bed rattled slightly. An IV needle from his arm popped out and Anne quickly replaced it, shaking her head at this. The patient's eyes were closed again, Anne checked for any changes in his health status. Everything seemed alright, the jolt only threw off the heart monitor some, but it quickly resumed normality. Surveying the instruments and documenting some notes on the clipboard, she deemed it alright to leave him alone for awhile so she could check up on the other patients… Her work was never done. She worried that the patient would try to move again.

Shrugging it off, she prepared to walk out…

Until that song of a voice spoke out once more. "Wait…" Anne turned around, perhaps he was drifting in and out of consciousness, like some patients were wont to do. "Forgiv…" he muttered, almost to himself.

Anne wedged the door closed again, standing uneasily at the entrance. "What? What do you need sir…"

"Forgiv… Forgiv… D-Do you… forgiv…" His heavy breathing seemed to get in the way of his speech.

"Are you sure you don't want that respirator sir?" Anne seemed worried that he would run out of oxygen any minute now.

"Do you … believe… in… forgiveness?" he finally sighed, his eyelids fluttering some. The light from the open window next to his room fell into the place, washing the room with a white, dull light that clashed with the lights overhead, which Anne prepared to click off as soon as she would be able to leave. "Forgiveness?" she repeated.

_Oh_. He was one of those church fanatics who tried to convert people to their side the first instance they got. It always made her nervous when they came around, she had her beliefs, sure. Belief that _she_ was the one who controlled her own destiny. Her mother was Catholic, which somewhat influenced Anne, and she hadn't known her father long enough to know what he believed in. She tried, however, not to call her mother unless a real emergency arose, which wasn't very often for sure. "Well… um.. I suppose so sir," she said finally with a moment's hesitation, thinking this might relieve the patient some.

The man on the bed, his mouth never moving, turned his head away as if to try and glance out at the snowy skies outside. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected. He seemed… occupied now, as if he saw beyond the shimmering, snow-covered skyscrapers and dull, grey clouds, and expected nothing more from her.

"If that's all Mr. Desultor, I have to go check on the other patients," she said, but he didn't respond, and she couldn't see his face. He probably had fallen asleep again…

Anne, leaving, clicked the light off, hearing no more of this mysterious patient, and in the absence of the hum of the fluorescent lights, silence overtook the room save for the monitors that beeped every now and then…

---

"So Annie, do ya' think you're going to be doin' anything later on tonight?" Phil Sherman, the wise-crack doctor said, catching Anne and pinning her against the wall under his arms in one of the less-frequented hallways.

"No thanks Phil… and… aren't you married?" Anne replied uneasily, not for the first time since Phil had joined the staff. '_He honestly thinks he's so smooth,'_ she thought to herself, rolling her eyes and pushing out under his arms. "And, not to mention, you've got a triple bypass to tend to in a few minutes," she added with some sarcasm, farther down the hall. The doctor, she noticed, was just holding his hands up and glancing through them, as if to frame her for a picture, then shrugged and strutted off. '_God, I really can't wait to get home,' _she thought to herself, entered a room marked 40A whose occupant Anne had known for a few days.

"Hello there Mrs. Mackenzie. How are you feeling today?" An elderly woman, whose skin was almost as thin and pale as the sheets that she hid under, smiled shakily up at her.

"Oh the usual, the usual, dear," Mrs. Mackenzie rasped happily.

The nurse nodded and went through with all of the standard checkups of the monitors and the patient as her job required of her. "We've some chicken-noodle soup today, how does that sound?" Anne asked, as if speaking with a child. The woman tried her hardest to clap excitedly, and Anne left for a few moments, only to return with a cooling bowl of the promised soup, a plastic spoon, and a carton of skim milk. She patiently sat at her bedside and helped the poor woman eat, then waved as she left the room, clicking off the light there as well.

Once more in the hall, Anne stifled a yawn and glanced down at her watch again. Only an hour more before her shift was over.

She could safely say that she'd checked every patient under her care when she'd gotten done with the sweet Mrs. Mackenzie, and she had no desire to return to Phil, so she decided to head back up to the staff lounge where some of the other unoccupied nurses were. However, boarding the elevator to get there, thoughts of what the man in 69A had said were coursing through her mind, and she could not shake him from her memory. Somehow, she would think of some priority that she had to attend to, and in some round-about way her mind would somehow jog back to the memory of the mysterious patient. It was odd really. She had no intentions of a relationship with anyone really, not after _that _had happened. No, never would she give her love to anyone but herself.

A _relationship_? Now why would that even come to mind? He hadn't thought of anything like that for years...

It was quite peculiar for that particular memory to resurface after all these years, and why now? Why of all the times to come sauntering back triumphantly after so many efforts to bury it forever? It was coming ever closer to Christmas after all…

* * *

Wow, okay, well I've finally gotten around to doing the second chapter! Whoohoo! And thank you for the reviews everyone! D


	3. Chapter 3: Progress

**The Final Days**

Chapter 3: Progress

_No... No... It's happening again... Not again..._

A week had passed.

And every single day, Anne had the feeling that something was growing, something immense. She had no idea what is was nor had any idea about what had started it. It just _was_.

Perhaps, it was the thought of the oncoming holiday, the things that needed to be done. Her only family was her mother and she had no intention of flying over to Montana to visiy, far too much work to be done. At least she had the next week off.

Today was just another day, the sky was a dull grey, showing signs of more snow. Thankfully it was slightly warm here in Sanctity Vale Hostiptal's hallways, though she had to continually rub her hands to keep her fingers from going numb. The clipboard she carried within her frozen grasp was especially packed today, forms of all kinds for Phil today. And once again, she could not find him...

She was contemplating the thought of going back to Jenny's desk, since that woman always seemed to have a keen sense of where the illusive doctor would be, when she heard his voice. From the sound of it, he was coming from the next hall at a brisk pace.

"You'd never believe it," Dr. Sherman gabbed excitedly, apparently to a group of more men of his profession walking alongside as they rounded the corner. "Oh hey Anne." He never missed a chance to speak with her. Shaking her head and slightly regretting having bumped into him, she followed along as well, getting the papers to him being the prime objective. "I mean, we only had him for around a week and a half, just coming from the E.R, mind you, and he's as fit as a fiddle. We ran some tests and he's as healthy as anything!" The swarm of white coats around him gabbled in agreement and slight awe. "Never heard anything like it..." They chattered, rounding yet another corner. "Din't he have a severe wound in the lower abdominal area, a large one?" "A miracle, like I heard some 'afore but..."

With much patience and folding dog-ears on nearly every paper on the clipboard, Anne finally had the scatter-brain doctor to herself.

"What's up, doll?" he clicked his tongue and shook his brows to no avail.

She preferred focusing on the papers, pointing to them as she went. "Christine said there's been some problems with Dexter's health as of late. Here's his situation at the moment. Didn't you say he was fine about a week ago?" she said, losing her focus and looking up. "And here, this is the prognosis for Mrs. Mackenzie's predicament. It's becoming full scale... And Dorothy's cancer is..."

"Whoa, whoa..." Dr. Sherman displayed with his hands dramatically. "Give me some good news for a change."

"Sadly to say Phil, we've got nothing today. No deliveries, no healing, nothing," Anne shrugged, only slightly baffled at the loss of progress today. Christmas was coming, how could this be?

---

Time to check on the 'miracle healer'. Shaking her head and checking her watch, as was a growing habit, she strode over to Room 69A. It had been over a week, and still she hadn't learned anything about the mysterious patient. She pushed a cart of food along with her, opening the door and holding it with a foot as she wheeled the contraption. The light was on.

The gorgeous, hazel eyes looked over. It felt as though all her insecurities were wiped away with a glance.

"Here you are sir," she brushed back a stray lock of her brown, wavy hair from her face. "If you need anything, please, feel free to ask. It's what I'm here for," she spoke politely, then suddenly regretted saying it. This man, though surely a handsome figure, seemed dark, dangerous... wild. He looked like one who would ask for some dope to fall off a cliff and hope for them to come back, only to push them off again, but at the same time, there seemed an aura of certainty, of security that seemed to fill the void that followed her around like a fog.

"That's alright," his voice smoothly carried over to her, perfectly now. "But if you don't mind, I'd like some company for a few minutes... If you have the time, that is," there came an innocent smile into his eyes, and she could see way more of him now that the intruding bandages and gauzes were gone. His muscles flexed as he worked himself to a sitting position, Anne placing the table over his lap, trying not to shudder.

"Oh, um. I suppose I could stay for a bit," she said. She found herself vaguely guessing at his age, coming to the conclusion that he was probably only a few years ahead of herself. Quickly altering the course her mind was working towards, she commented, "My, you've recovered fast."

The man in the bed looked around at himself as if this were not apparent until now. "Oh, right." A nod of the head, a smile, genuine and fresh.

"They're calling you a miracle healer." She laughed a little.

Her giggle seemed contagious, and the man chuckled slightly as well, "Really? Well... I've no idea how it happened so," he shrugged. "I just know I feel a great deal better. Did I say anything odd earlier? This week I mean?" he asked, picking up a fork and slowly prodding into a chicken piece nestled in a pile of leafy salad, then looking up in one silken movement.

The second conversation, though hardly one, came up in her mind. She shook her head. "Nope, not at all, sir," she smiled. Such an odd character.

"Oh good. I was thinking the anesthetics would make me groggy, unfocused, so I apologize to anyone who may have had to experience that," he chuckled again. He was so magnetic, hypnotizing almost. She vaguely found that her fingers were no longer numb. She laughed too.

"May I ask sir..."

"Bryan. Call me Bryan. No more 'sir'," he grinned, shuffling himself to get more comfortable as he ate.

"B-Bryan," she smiled, finding this change of formalities more comforting. "May I ask. What happened to make you like," she waved her hand for a lack of words. "Hurt?" was as best she could up with.

His eyes darkened for a second, then lit again, like a passing storm. "It was just... a mindless scuffle, that's all. Some stupid thing," he waved his arm too... "Let's drop it... Let's talk about you?"

Anne could do nothing but smile genuinely. It was going to be a good day...

* * *

My, my, how time flies. Sorry it took so long for the update but well... Yeah! At least I did it. ;)


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